


Swiss Army Smut Story

by TyphloticHaruspex



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Blow Jobs, F/M, Hand Jobs, Multi, Multiple Endings, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Reader-Interactive, Teasing, Threesome - F/M/M, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Well There Is Some Plot, iiii guess, its just mostly a way to get more porn in, like theres gonna be choices and multiple endings and shit, listen i spent an entire eight hour workday thinking this through itll be fine, reader has a vag
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-19
Updated: 2017-12-15
Packaged: 2018-12-31 14:54:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12134871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TyphloticHaruspex/pseuds/TyphloticHaruspex
Summary: You are Zen's significant other, and he loves you, that's true, but also you a hoe. What happen? You decide! Two choices at the end of each chapter--one furthers the story (with smut), and one just ends (also with smut). Experimental, so I'm gonna be doing my best, here. I don't want to spoil the surprise so I will tag characters as the story updates. The end game will see you having laid everyone in the RFA—if you were looking for exclusivity, this will not be the fic for you!





	1. Do You Nude, Bro?...

**Author's Note:**

> I have no fucking clue how long this is gonna go on. Strap in.

You lounge on Zen’s old sofa, lips pursed at the phone in your hand. On the thin edge of a decision to be made that could change the course of your evening.

Or the next few evenings, depending on your choices…

You’d been dating the silver-haired actor for a while now, to the point where you were—ahem—staying the night every so often and hanging out at his apartment until he came home from work. Everyone in the RFA liked to tease him about his policy of enforced gentlemanliness, especially set in stark contrast to your more rowdy nature, but truth be told, behind closed doors, you both have _appetites._

And, with time, you have come to learn and love the true nature of Zen’s inner ‘beast’.

Which leads to your current conundrum.

You brush a stray strand of hair out of your face and scrunch your nose at your screen, a grin creeping across your lips. He’s at work right now, rehearsing for some adaptation of a novel that was popular earlier this year. The lead role! You’re so proud of him. In half an hour, he’ll be at lunch, either putting up with some overzealous director or if he’s feeling less sociable, having a quick smoke behind the convenience store down the street.

He always checks his phone at lunch. He keeps up with RFA as often as he can, and of course, he loves to check up on you.

The only problem with you is that you woke up from an _intense_ dream-reenactment of a steamy meetup you two had a couple weeks back in his trailer. Empty bed, raging libido, and nothing (no _one_ ) to do for the next four hours.

 

So here is your current dilemma.

You’re not wearing much and the curtains are all drawn. With a photo-taking device in your hand and the means to provoke the fuck of your life, guaranteed, albeit maybe at the expense of Zen’s sanity.

 

[[[LONG-DISTANCE BONER-ACTIVATION VIA STYLISH NUDES]]](http://archiveofourown.org/works/12134871/chapters/28041984)

 

[[[LEAVE THAT POOR BOY ALONE AND MAKE FRIENDS WITH THE SHOWER HEAD]]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12134871/chapters/27526836)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IM GONNA ADD THIS HERE   
> KIDS   
> THIS WORK OF FICTION EXISTS IN A UNIVERSE WHERE YOU DONT NEED CONDOMS BC IM LAZY 
> 
> PLEASE DONT TAKE MY EXAMPLE  
> ANIME GUYS CANT CATCH DISEASE BUT YOU DEFO CAN AND ALSO PREGNANCY   
> BE SAFE BABES <333


	2. Prude-END

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You decide not to send Zen nudes.  
> But that's ok because it doesn't take much to rile him up anyways.

You decide to leave him alone. He’s got enough on his plate without having a dick-hungry girlfriend trying to get him to pop a stiffy at his acting job. Instead, you have a very _long_ shower and spend the rest of the time reading some weird textbook he has laying around.

Or, you try to read it. You’re not even sure what it’s talking about, something to do with real estate??

You hear the door click hours later and realize that you’ve actually fallen asleep, sprawled out on Zen’s couch like some kind of gremlin, threatening to drool all over the satin pillow propping up your head. You hear him sigh—he always sighs when he comes home, a sweet little sigh of relief like he’s lighter just for walking through the door—and you see him peek his head around the doorway at you. God, you never get over how beautiful he is, with that bright hair and burning eyes. He’s dressed down today, but the t-shirt and jeans do nothing to hide his ridiculously chiseled physique.

“Babe~ Did I wake you? You look so cute.” He looks a little tired until you smile at him and suddenly he is a new man. His returned grin is dazzling. A quick turn away so he can lock the door and he’s above you in three long strides. He hovers above the couch with one hand braced against the back and his other hand resting just beneath the cushions where your legs are. He smells like outside, like sunshine. And hints of that new cologne you adore.

“Missed you,” he murmurs gently, leaning in. You crane upwards to give him a sweet peck on the lips. His lips are so soft, and so warm, tasting only vaguely of cigarette smoke. You meant for a quick ‘hello’ kiss, still a little fuzzy from your impromptu nap, but when you pull away, you see that his eyes are smoldering.

“How was your day?” He asks. His breath ghosts over you and you are suddenly _hot_.

“…I thought about sending you nudes,” you blurt.

The effect is immediate. His eyes sharpen and his whole face gradually turns beet red, from his cheeks and spreading outwards. “A-at work?” he breathes, like he’s unsure of whether he’s more appalled or turned on.

“I had a dream about that time in the trailer…”

He doesn’t move. He’s watching you intently, his lips beginning to curve into a knowing, _hungry_ smile. You squirm. You almost kiss him again, but stop just short, eyes searching his for the reaction you _need_. “I woke up _so wet_ , babe,” you whimper, licking your lips.

“I bet.” His voice drops into the ground and it goes straight to your groin, your breath hitching. The hand that isn’t braced against the couch finds itself at your ankle and starts trailing up your leg, painfully slow. You feel his fingers rest briefly at your knee, his fingertips grazing your skin and leaving fire in its wake. The warmth of his hand stops at your hip and squeezes. “I bet you were soaked. Aching for me. Oh, my princess…”

Zen’s crimson eyes are heavily lidded as his hand slips forwards, to the waistband of your pajama bottoms. You feel cold where the fabric meets your stomach and jump a little. His hands are chillier than you expected, but it won’t last long, with how _hot_ you are getting.

“I’m so sorry I missed it.” He leans forward and you shift your head to the side to allow him access to your neck with an inviting noise. You feel the pressure of his hand slide past the waistband of your pants, and he chuckles once at your lack of underwear, the breath tickling against your collarbone.

 

“You must have been so _wanting_ , babe.”

His long fingers ghost around your clit, rubbing your heat with slow, deliberate motions. He dips his head to kiss and suck gently at your neck, grazing the sensitive flesh with his perfect teeth, and you whine into his ear. He growls and you can feel the vibrations against your skin. One of your hands tangles itself in his hair, the other grasping his arm, trying to reassert _some_ kind of control because _fuck you_ , you need this faster and harder. He has none of it.

 

“Waking up without me, _wanting_ me. It made you so desperate, didn’t it?”

His thumb finally presses against your clit, hard, and you cry out at the explosion of pleasure. Your hips roll upwards but it does nothing to give you the friction you need. _Bastard_. Instead, he takes to stroking you, leisurely, up and down. Like he has nowhere to be, nothing else to do. You’ll be here for hours if you let him keep you. Maybe later, but now?

You choke on his name, spoken as a plea. The hand in his hair and the one on his arm tug feverishly as you try wordlessly to beg him for release. Zen rewards you by biting down where your neck and your jaw meet as you feel his thumb swiping against your sensitive button with an expert touch. You _sob_.

 

“You dreamed about me. Tell me, princess, did I make you feel like this?”

 

You’re gasping, your body writhing obscenely, but it feels _so good_ , and you _need more_. His body above you stops most of your movements, and every time he speaks, the warmth at your ear shoots straight to your core. You are _soaking_ your pajama bottoms.

“P-please, Zen,” you manage, your hips beginning to hump clumsily at his hand, tugging at his arm in turn. “Please.”

He pulls his thumb away briefly, and you feel him readjusting his hand before a long finger disappears inside of you. He mutters something about how wet you are, pulling away again to insert the other finger. When he curls them up experimentally, his fingertips graze the spot inside you that makes you spasm and you see stars. He strokes you, thumb making lazy circles around your clit and fingers stretching your aching cunt. Pleasure builds in your abdomen and you can’t stop the needy whines and gasps and ‘ah’s that slip from your throat. Your whole body is fire; pure, unadulterated _want_ coiling in your belly.

 

“What do you want, babe?” he purrs into your ear. His lips find your earlobe and he suckles on it, humming against you. He shifts, moving his knee to brace against the couch and you feel his other hand slide between you, curling around your breast and teasing at your nipple.

“I want you,” you moan quietly. Your back arches and you feel your thigh brush against something _hard_ in his pants. Desire wracks through your body and you arch again, trying to rub against him. He grinds downwards, his breath catching.

“Mm, Jagi, I can’t hear you, what was that?” His tongue is hot as he drags it across your ear. His fingers pinch at your nipple and his fingers slide against you all at once, rubbing your clit and curling inside you. His hip jerks, rubbing his dick into your thigh again and you are _dying_.

“I want you!” you cry out, your fingers digging into his hair, his arms. You’re drowning in his fingers, his voice, his scent, his touch, spiraling but not _yet_ where you need to be. “Please, ah… Zen! Hah—I-I need you!”

“Cum for me, babe.” He demands hotly into the crook of your neck, licking and biting and kissing between words and ragged breaths. “Let go. I’ve got you.”

 

Your orgasm builds and winds inside you and you melt into gasps and pleas, fingers and friction and wetness. Zen growls and you feel him grind against you, musical groans filling your ears as he _undoes you_. Your breath hikes into a shout as the pleasure heightens and suddenly snaps. Your vision is white, your back is arching, your nails digging into his skin. Shockwaves flood your body and you tremble with it. His mouth finds yours and he kisses you _hard,_ swallowing your cries wetly, clumsily, as you explode under his hands.

The orgasm leaves you shuddering and he pulls back to lick your lips. He carefully disentangles his hand from your pants to avoid touching anything too sensitive, pulling the waistband back up like a gentleman.

“Good girl,” he murmurs appreciatively, hoarse. His hand comes up to his mouth and he makes sure you watch him loudly lick the juices from his long fingers, his eyes downright _lewd_.

You watch rapturously, panting, when his hip jerks into you again and this time you can feel him pulse through his jeans. You unclench your hand from his arm and reach downwards, feeling a rush of pleasure at his wanton expression and pleading moan. He’s shaking as you unzip his pants and pull his cock out—hot, heavy, and dripping. Just for you. You lick your lips, ready to return the favor.

When your fingers curl around him, he inhales sharply. He moves to brace his arms on either side of your head, shaking. You begin to stroke him up and down, pressing and squeezing, and he bucks into your hand desperately. His eyes burn into yours, his face flushed, his mouth open as he moans beautifully for you, needily for you.

It doesn’t take more than a few strokes before he falls over the edge.

He jerks once, his whole body spasming, his mouth hanging open as a shout tears from his throat and his face contorts. You feel warmth spread across your hand and his cock twitching against your palm. His hips stutter once, twice, before finally he sighs and his convulsions stop.

Zen’s body slowly relaxes and he leans forward to lay gently ontop of you, his breaths quieting. For a moment, you both stay there, breathing heavily, sweaty, and covered in sticky juices—but satisfied.

After a few heartbeats, you feel him shift upwards, his hair tickling your face and neck as he moves to press his lips against yours, deep and sweet and soft.

 

“Let’s clean up,” he murmurs, admiring your red, heated face from beneath his long eyelashes. “And get some dinner, after.”

“Okay.”

His smile mirrors yours and you kiss again.

There is a pause.

“Nudes, huh?” he breaks the silence suddenly, beginning to blush like an innocent again.

“Yeah, I thought the better of it.”

“Hmm.”

Another pause. He won’t look you in the eye as you stare at him incredulously and a sheepish grin slowly claims his lips. His eyes slide to you like he’s thinking something _devious_ and you laugh a little at the expression.

“Maybe…one of these days…you _could_ think….

 _worse_ of it….”

“Are you saying you _want_ me to send nudes??”

 

“Well.

I’m not saying I’d hate it.”

 

[ [[CHANGE YOUR MIND?]]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12134871/chapters/27526743)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PRUDE END
> 
> Suggestions for this path to continue?  
> Slam that comment section, my dudes.


	3. Nudes Sent Successfully-BRANCH

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You sent out Nudes!  
> It was Super Effective!

Oh _hell_ yes. You are going to make both your days.

You feel a grin cross your lips as you switch your phone to camera mode and tug at your top. This is going to be a series. Artful, at first, until you get to the money shot. A few minutes in between each snapshot so he has time to sweat.

You make sure each one is a masterpiece, taking one or two pictures before sending the best ones—just to make _sure_. It’s rough to stifle your giggles enough to take steady photos, but you manage.

 

An hour passes and you’ve sent him all of them, feeling proud of this perfect little story you’ve concocted. You spend a little time with number one—still not over your dream—and take a quick nap on his soft couch.

When you wake up, bleary-eyed but warm and content, you’re a little peckish. You grab your phone as you get up to wander into the kitchen, excited to see his reaction to your mischief.

And!

…..

It’s nothing.

He has his read receipts on, he saw them just as soon as you sent them. But no reply.

You pout as you rifle through the cabinets, looking for something…crunchy? He’s probably playing the stoic card. Like if he just ignores it, he can pretend nothing happened. You vindictively snap another one midway through your journey up his counter to reach the jar nestled on top of the fridge, just in case he _is_ ignoring you. Not on your fucking watch.

 

You hear the front door ‘click’ as you reach upwards. You pause and cast a dubious glance at your phone. Home early? You guess so.

The lightbulb clicks when he rounds the corner, the door slamming shut behind him. He’s throwing his jacket off as he comes, his face red and silvery hair disheveled; you barely have time to throw him a cheeky grin before he grabs you tightly, his fingers digging into your hip, and jerks your body towards him. He _radiates_ heat and you can’t help but shiver. He smells like cigarette smoke and autumn.

A hand curled in your hair yanks downwards and his lips are on yours, hot, hard, _demanding_. He slurps against you headily, his slick tongue dominating yours. You mewl into the kiss as he bites against you just hard enough to make you moan and shoves his lower body against yours so that you can _feel_ what’s gotten into him through his jeans. He tastes like sweat.

When he releases your mouth you find yourself gasping for air, already so incredibly hot.

 

“I can’t _believe_ you did that,” he growls, and you dazedly realize he’s working your pajama bottoms off of you. “I was at _work_.”

“Did you like my surprise?” you purr, wiggling so your pants can slip down your legs and pool on the floor.

You squeal when he slides you roughly off the counter and slams into you again, his slippery tongue claiming every inch of your mouth that he can reach as pants against you. _Fuck_ he’s hard—and you are already wet.

“Did you get a boner at work?” you needle again, breathily, when he disengages with a noise downright _pornographic_. “Did I get you hot at work?...”

“Hands on the counter, ass towards me,” is his reply as he nips at your lip sharply. His bright red eyes are burning into yours, his pupils already blown to hell. You comply all-too-happily, making sure to wiggle for him as you lean onto the cold countertop.

He curls his fingers into your ass like he’s judging an offering and you _keen_ , trying to back up into him. He keeps you still with one hand as you hear his pants rustle and unzip.

“Did you _touch_ yourself when I sent them? In the bathroom, like a horny teen?” You continue.

You can’t help it. He’s panting behind you like, well…

Like some kind of beast, and you have been waiting for this _all day_.  

“No.” You feel his member against you as he leans forward to bite your earlobe. His teeth graze at it, his hot tongue sliding against the edge. You hear him rasp straight into your ear, the hot air sending shivers down your body. “I saved it for when I got _home_.”

The heat of his cockhead slips from the curve of your ass to your pussy lips and you arch your back. Carefully, fuck, so _precisely_ , he parts your heat and slides in. He’s being slow about it, of _course_ he is, you _need_ it _now_. You whine and gyrate, trying to get any kind of friction, any kind of relief.

“Ah…” he tsks under his breath, both hands going to grip your hips and stop your movements. He slides in, inch-by-inch, as if to make you memorize the _feel_ of his dick inside you and you are trembling.

“Zen—ah, please—“ you try to call for him, scrabbling at the counter. Your body pushes weakly against his hands but he is firm as he holds you still and fills you to the brim at an _agonizing_ pace. “ _Please_ , I _need_ —“

“I had lunch with the director,” he mumbles from somewhere above you. You can feel his hot breath puff on your neck. “And when I started getting messages, he asked me who it was.”

He twitches inside when he reaches the base, his body pressing against yours insistently.

“What did you—nn—tell him??”

 

He pauses, like he’s caught off-guard, before he chuckles in a sweet, embarrassed, very-Zen kind of way. You feel his lips press against your skin. His fingers stop digging into you to rub against your hip fondly.

“My amazing, wonderful girlfriend, of course.” _Fuck_ this is why you love him. Torture you by fucking you so slowly you want to die, up against the counter, and then say something so impossibly cute you find yourself getting blushy and giggly.

His hip moves away from you, one smooth motion, until he’s almost out of you entirely, tearing a sharp cry from your throat.

“Who sent me _nudes_ at _work_ like some _naughty slut_ ,” he adds, in a heavy tone. “What would you have done if someone else had seen them…?”

You don’t get the chance to answer.

He slams back in, sheathing himself back up to the hilt and then nearly as quickly thrusting back. You moan loudly, your legs shaking, and he starts fucking you properly. Wet slaps echo about the small apartment, interspersed with his stuttering, almost songlike moans and your loud _please_ s and _fuck_ s.

You’re losing your mind, drooling and calling for him, unable to move against him as he works you into pieces at a devastating pace. When he rocks against you and his hips twitch, you swear you can feel him in your belly, heavy and hot.

 

 _Knock, knock_. Both of you freeze at the sound of the front door. Both of you obviously consider ignoring it—if it’s a salesperson, you can assure them there’s nothing you want more than what’s happening right now. Zen gets half a thrust in before the knocking comes again. You are trying to keep your moans at a quiet level, but you are _shaking_.  

“Yooo! Seven-oh-Seven has arrived at the Den of Zen!” Oh God, _Seven, NO._ You look at Zen, exasperated, but he looks more…mischievous than anything. He meets your gaze with a grin, raises an eyebrow and presses a finger to his lips. Your expression changes to shock as he resumes thrusting. He hoists one of your legs up and you feel him begin to rub slow circles around your clit with his long fingers. You have to clap your hands over your mouth to keep from screaming, humping against him in heightened desperation.

 

“Seven.” Zen greets with a raised voice, smoothly. _Fucking actor—of course._ He just can’t refuse the chance to show off. “Practice”. “We’re in our PJs, what do you want?”

“Eh? _You_ asked _me_ to come over.”

Zen knows exactly what he’s doing with his fingers and his new position brushes against your G-spot just enough to make you _quake_ and you are trying so hard to keep your noise down, but you’re already so close.

“What? When??” He sounds genuinely confused, but his hips stutter into you harshly. He leans over to gasp against your back and you know he’s close, too.

“Your phone? You wanted me to stop it from bugging out. Something about receiving messages?”

“I-I didn’t mean today!”

 

 _Shit_. You’re almost there. You’re rolling against him, contorting around his cock, his fingers, making small sounds like a fluffy animal caught in a trap. Zen is meeting your pace, bent over you. His hot breath ghosts over your back as he hisses, low and quick. His hips jerk, once, twice, and he’s cumming shakily, his teeth sinking into your shoulder to muffle his drawn-out groan. You feel warmth spill from between your thighs and shudder.

“ _I_ did.” There is something so fucking smug about Seven’s tone and you can’t help but wonder if he can _see_ the two of you. You, bent over the counter and taking dick so _well_. He’d tape it—you know he would. Tape it and imagine it was him, instead, with that shit-eating grin of his, burying his cock inside of you. The thought alone is enough to send you spiraling and you choke off a cry as your vision goes white. You’re rocking hard against Zen, and he’s got you, a slender hand sliding over your mouth with a soft murmur of “Good, you’re doing so good, shhh…”

Your eyes nearly godamn roll back in your head.

 

“Zen~? I said I’d be over as soon as I could.” _Fuck, Seven._ You’re not sure he didn’t hear any of that. But knowing him, you’d probably never be fully sure either way.

Zen gulps hard and sighs through his nose. He very carefully slips out of you with a hiss, setting your leg down. He gives you a quick peck on the nose and makes an expression of exasperation at you.

“When is a better time? Any other time, Seven.” He calls back, frustrated. He hands you a handful of paper towels and you two start trying to clean up enough to put your clothes back on.

“Ehhh, I’m booked through until May.” Of course he is. “Why? I can’t see you in your PJs? Or…are you afraid I’ll steal your girlfriend if I see how _cute_ she looks in them?”

“Careful.” Zen growls and you laugh a little. You’re wiping down the counter and the floor underneath you. You two face each other and fix stray hairs, wipe sweat off, and exchange rolled eyes.

You don’t look _great_ but you’re at least not mostly naked and covered in bodily fluids. As an afterthought, Zen quickly opens the window and sprays a canister of some fall scent of some sort through the air in a ‘z’ formation.

 

“I’m _leaving_ ~ I can tell when I’m not wanted~” You hop to the front door and open it, revealing the redheaded hacker standing at your doorstep with _exactly_ the grin you imagined. The afterglow in your belly flares and you have to force a returned smile.

“We were _cuddling_ and _warm_ , Seven.” You chastise playfully with a pout. You turn to let him in. There is no way he’s actually going to buy it, but that’s the thing with Seven. Poker face, innocent until proven guilty, stick to your guns until you’re found out.

He stalks past you into the house, and pulls a childish face over his shoulder at you. “Aww, but I love cuddling. You can go back to it, if you want. Maybe let me join~?”

“Just fix my phone,” Zen huffs, but Seven’s amber eyes slide over to meet yours and for a split second, his grin widens. Son of a _bitch_ he definitely knows. You probably weren’t as quiet as you thought. You close the door behind him, trying to hide the red threatening to retake your face.

 

“Hand it over.” One of Seven’s hands bounces out of his ridiculously oversized jacket and flips over, palm-up, towards Zen. “You probably just need an update.”

Zen grumbles something about an update and retrieves his jacket from where he’d thrown it onto the couch, digging through the pocket until he finds the phone. _The nudes_ , you suddenly realize in horror but he flips through it briefly before shutting it off and placing it in Seven’s upturned hand.

“No peeping through it,” he warns, eyes sharp.

Seven hums noncommittally and goes to sit at the island bar, not a foot away from where you two _just_ made the beast with two backs. He sniffs once, another grin curving one side of his lips.

“If you two are sending _salacious_ material back and forth,” he says, pretending to be unduly shocked, “It’s none of my business. Buuut I hope you’re not doing it through the app.”

 

Both of you pause and exchange looks.

 

“….Why.”

“Just in case.”

“You had better not be—“

“I wouldn’t.” Seven glances up at you from beneath strands of bright red hair and you can hear the sincerity in his voice. “But we’ve been hacked before, remember? I’d just be careful.” He looks back to the phone in his hand and fiddles with it some more as you stare at him, you concerned and Zen annoyed.

 

“You just need to update it,” he says finally, looking back up and holding it out. “I messed with your memory settings a little and adjusted some pieces here and there. You know these things only work at like 70 percent out of the box? It’s so that when you take it in for repairs you feel like it’s working faster. Sneaky, but what can you do?”

“Call our resident Tech God, Seven-Oh-Seven?” you put in with a small smile and you catch a blush spread across his face.

“Always happy to help a believer,” he returns, forced nonchalant, trying to make a show of scratching the back of his neck to hide it.

 

“The hacker…” Zen hesitantly takes the phone from him, frowning. “Could hack again? And…hack into our…messages?”

“If he got past my firewalls again, I would let you know immediately,” Seven promises, his hands folding in his lap. “But, just to be safe, you should keep it in the phone messages.” He pauses, surveying the looks of horror on your faces.

“I’d stop him before he got very far.” He tries again to be reassuring. “So long as you’re not clamoring for _pre-marital sin_ every other message, he shouldn’t be able to see much.”

 

You exchange glances. Zen looks like he regrets everything he’s ever done in his life. Seven’s grin grows until you could swear it was about to fall off.

“You two are _so bad_!!” he exclaims with a short burst of a laugh. “Are you _serious_?!”

“Shut up! If it was you, you wouldn’t be so casual about it!”

“If it was me, I wouldn’t _care_. Go ahead, keep hacking. You’ll get a face full of dick. That’d be a great defense.” He slaps his hands to his face, suddenly mock-enraptured by this thread of thought. “Unless he liked it! And then we’d fall in love and get married and swear off the hacker lifestyle forever.”

“You like guys?”

“I 'like' anyone.”

 

You are _struck_ by a vision so strong you almost physically reel backwards.

Zen and Seven.

And _you_. In the _middle_.

Holy _shit._

 

“Why? Are you the shallow girls-only man that the media portrays you as?” You are vaguely aware that the conversation is going on without you in the real world.

“Not that I _really want_ to have this conversation with you, but I’ve never tried it so I guess—I don’t know!”

He _guesses?_ He _doesn’t know_??? You are having trouble breathing. What does a girl even _do_.

“You should try it. Just to try it. With someone you trust, y’know. Just as an experience.” Seven’s eyebrows waggle and you are _not at all sure whether he’s offering what you think he’s offering_.

“Why is this the subject now?!”

“You started it!”

Eventually they’re going to notice that MC.exe has stopped working. What do?

 

 

[[[ZEVEN ZANDWICH ZEVEN ZANDWICH ZEVEN ZANDWICH]]](http://archiveofourown.org/works/12134871/chapters/29784975)

 

[[[CANT THIS FIC JUST BE ABOUT ZEN??]]](http://archiveofourown.org/works/12134871/chapters/28895400)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And welcome to The Real Reason This Fic Has Multiple Endings  
> It's So That There Can Be C o n q u e s t  
> MC on a M I S S I O N, B A B Y
> 
> leave those sweet sweet comments below


	4. Monogamy-END

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You decide not to stray from the straight and narrow and Zen.

You decide not to get too greedy.

After all, you’re in a relationship with Zen, not Zen and also every random guy who wanders into your life. To be fair, Seven’s not exactly “random”, he’s a good friend, but there are limits to your appetite in any case.

 

“Thank you for fixing Zen’s phone,” you interject with a smile. “And for the advice. We’ll be on better behavior from here on.”

“Of course! Yeah, no problem.” Seven stops needling Zen to reply to you. He shrugs and moves to scratch at the back of his head again, sliding off the bar stool. As he moves towards the door he makes an awkward finger-guns gesture to point at it. “I’ll get out of your hair, then, if that’s everything.”

“It’s everything,” Zen affirms with a nod, doing his best not to look huffy. It doesn’t work, you know him too well. You giggle a little, turning away. He notices and bumps you with his shoulder.

“Thanks again.” You say, trying to hide your grin with a dainty hand.

 

“No problem again.”

You step forward to open the door for him and as he turns, he throws the both of you a mischievous grin and makes a phone symbol with his fingers at Zen. “Call me, Zenny~!”

“Get out of my house, Seven!”

The hacker directs a genuine smile coupled with a mock salute at you. “See you.”

“See you.” You close the door behind him and exhale a sigh of relief as you lock it. There’s something just _too much_ about Seven that makes it hard to stay in his company for long. You turn to rest your back against the door and have to swallow a snort at Zen’s facial expression.

“He just wants to help,” you point out.

“He just wants to be a pain in the ass,” he returns, his arms folded. After a moment, he breathes through his nose and sighs, his shoulders relaxing. His lips purse, his gaze settling somewhere on the couch. Then he looks back to you with a small, devilish smile.

“That was _hot_ , though.”

 

“We can _not_ do that again, Zen!” You protest, playing offended. “I’m not even sure he didn’t know.”

“Not the point.” He raises an eyebrow and walks smoothly towards you, settling his forearm against the door by your head. He’s looking down at you, his chest pressed against yours, one leg between yours. He’s burning hot where he’s touching you and when he leans forward to murmur into your ear, you feel a shiver crawl down your spine.

“He _knows_ we’re fucking. You and me. It’s what couples do, isn’t it?”

Warmth appears gently on your thigh, moving upwards, and you gasp as his hand slips down the front of your pants. Zen nuzzles into your jaw, his lips finding yours easily. His tongue slips into your mouth, hot and slick. When he growls, you can feel it on your skin.

“He knows for a fact that you’re _mine_.” He breathes against your lip and bites it just hard enough to make you hum. You feel his fingers slide against your core and _godamn him_ you are already raring to go.

 

But you pull away, placing a hand on his shoulder. He immediately stops any and all movement, leaning so that he can give you all his attention.

“We should get cleaned up.”

He deflates a little but you feel his hand retract from your waistband.

“I don’t want to smell like this all day,” you add.

“Yeah, I guess so,” he chuckles. You know he’s disappointed, but he sees your point well enough. “Ah, do you want the first shower, then?”

“Mm.”

“What?”

 

“You misheard me, Zen.” You crane upwards on your tippy toes, and nip at his jaw. “ _We_ should get cleaned up.”

“ _We_ ,” he repeats, mesmerized. It takes him a split second, but he swallows and mumbles, his voice low and thick. “… _Right_. _We._ Yes…”

Your hand slides into his, gripping at his long fingers as well you can. He returns your flashed smile with an expression of amazement and adoration, like you’ve just come up with the greatest idea in the world. You lead him into the bathroom, him following obediently, if excitedly.

He closes the door behind him—like somebody might see. You find it weirdly endearing.

You pull your shirt up slowly, teasingly, and watch him watching you. He always looks like it’s the first time he’s ever seen your breasts. Like there’s nothing in the world he’d like more than to devour them whole, right here.

Instead, his eyes flick to yours and he moves to pull up his own shirt.

You can’t help the breath that escapes your throat as you watch. Smooth pecs, lovely abs. And those hipbones, _god_ , kill you now. Like arrows, carved out of marble. _This way to dick_.

He sways his hips a little as he slides the fabric off his arms and his lips curve at your audible swallow.

You do your best to retaliate by hooking your fingers in your pants and shimmying them downwards, inch by inch. You pretend to be shy, turning so that he can’t see you properly, the pyjama bottoms pooling at your feet.

He’s not going to be outperformed. His eyes burn into your skull as he licks his upper lip and pulls slowly at his zipper. He didn’t have time to put his underwear back on when Seven came knocking—you can already see the base of his cock. He cranes his head back, his mouth open slightly, and his hips begin to rock as he undoes the button with a deft movement. You’re drooling. _Not fucking fair_. His head drops back down and he stalks towards you, reaching for your hand.

 

“I’m having trouble taking them off.” His voice is silk and sex and you tremble. Zen leads your hand to the front of his jeans, where you can already feel him beginning to get hard.

“Help me, Jagi?”

You slide forward obligingly, your other hand going to join its twin at his belt loops. You work his pants down, unable to resist the urge to lean forward and bite at his hip gently. He gyrates against you with a husky groan. It takes _too long_ to free him from his jean prison and by the time you do, both of you are breathing heavily. You’re already getting wet, and as you cast an upwards glance, his member twitches violently.

“Let’s get _clean_ , Zen,” you breathe, straightening, and act like you’re going in for a kiss. When he cranes forward, you step back, sauntering towards the shower. He follows your movements like a man bewitched, stepping in beside you. He reaches behind you to turn on the water, but leaves his hands there, braced against the wall. Your lips find his and as the water begins raining down on the both of you, your tongues slip against each other.

Your hands again find themselves in his hair, curling the wet strands around your fingers, tugging him towards you as you slurp headily against his mouth. You feel his warm, wet hands against your waist, pulling you gently to the side so that he can press his naked body against yours without digging your back into the taps.

His long fingers splay against your skin as they move to your knee, caressing and squeezing there. He bends against you, and you feel his cock at your entrance. Even compared to the water against you, he is _hot_ and heavy, his prickhead smooth like velvet.  You break for air with a ‘pop’, and his mouth finds new purchase against the crook of your neck as he spreads you with his fingers and sinks into you with one smooth motion. A whine escapes your lips as he pushes into you experimentally, hitching your knees up. You wrap your legs around his waist, crossing your ankles against the dip in his lower back and humming appreciatively at how _amazing_ he feels inside you like this. Your head falls back, and you feel him suck hard at the skin on your neck.

The pace he sets is slow, to contrast the feverish desperation of before. Now, he has no reason to rush, and the two of you savor every second of wet skin against skin, warm hands and hot, gasping breaths.

He presses his forehead against yours, exchanging pants and sighs, as his hips rock his member into you with leisurely thrusts. Between Zen fucking you gently, lovingly into the wall and the warm, comforting water dribbling down both your bodies, you are in _heaven_.

Your orgasm builds so slowly that you don’t notice how close you are to the edge until suddenly you can’t breathe, clutching at his shoulders and wordlessly begging for his lips against yours. He obliges with a low chuckle, adding the warmth of his lips and tongue to the feel of his chest pushing against you, the sweet friction of his dick sliding in and out of you.

 

The knot inside of you coils and breaks lazily, gradually, your vision dissolving into white, your toes curling. He swallows your choked sigh with a smile. His hips stutter into you for a few more thrusts before he withdraws his lips from yours to moan, drawn-out and dreamlike, against your jaw. He twitches inside you and you feel his warmth spill out from between your thighs.

Zen hums and kisses you again. His hands carefully let you down, and you allow your legs to unlock from behind him.

“Perfect,” he mumbles into your hair, peppering your face with butterfly kisses.

You giggle.

“You too.” You kiss his nose and his returned smile could melt titanium.

 

Suddenly, he shrieks in a high pitch and you jump backwards, almost slipping and braining yourself as you do. You almost ask what’s wrong when you feel it. The water is _freezing_. You used up the hot water for sexy times.

You’re trying not to laugh your ass off, failing miserably, as he makes a panicked face not unlike a cat and arches his back, trying to reach behind himself to turn the water off without actually touching the water.

You push him back into the stream.

He shouts and grabs you around your arms, pulling you in. You squeal and struggle against what is _horribly cold_ , eventually managing to turn the water off with an arm you squirm out of his grasp.

 

You decide to get clean the old-fashioned way, with a kettle and a pail of water, but regardless, go to bed in each other’s clean, fresh-smelling arms.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the "monogamous end". If you don't wish to engage in multiple couplings from here on, ye be warned--this was it. I threw this in just before work and it's liable to need a little tweaking. I apologize for any errors; feel free to point them out and as always, feedback is appreciated!


	5. Zeven Zandwich--BRANCH

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seven has been added to your party! You've gained 20 EXP! You've gained (1) RFA Member (Seven)!  
> New Level Unlocked: Three's A Crowd

“Someone that you trust, huh?” You interject suddenly.

Both boys look at you with varying expressions of trepidation. Seven is excited to get you in on the joke—Zen is devastated that you’d betray him so quickly.

“Like you, right, Seven? He could trust you. Just to try it.”

 

He freezes in place, quickly scanning your face for any sign that you were kidding. He doesn’t find it. The mischievous smile fades into the sides of his mouth. His eyes widen under his glasses and his face threatens to turn the same shade as his hair. It only lasts a moment before he turns to laugh at the cabinet behind him, refusing eye contact with you. He’s too smart to actually mistake your tone for jest but damned if he doesn’t try.

“Zen’s not really my type, sorry, Zen,” he babbles in return, feigning a grin that wavers fiercely.

 

“I’m not—I don’t really—“ Zen tries in turn, looking like he’s standing on the bridge between panic and confusion.

“I’m not joking,” you insist, stepping forward to clutch Zen’s arm. “If you’re not comfortable with it, then I’ll drop it. No questions asked. Just say the word.

You too, Seven.”

 

Zen goes rigid and Seven implodes.

 

“You can’t—this isn’t—it was a joke, I swear, I didn’t mean anything.” The hacker tries to save his train of thought. “I’ll just leave, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend anyone.”

“I’m not offended…I’ve thought about it before,” you add gently. “And I trust the both of you.”

 

The sound that leaves Zen above you is _hilarious_ out of context but you are determined not to laugh at him. Seven looks at you like you’ve just disproved gravity.

“ _….Fuck_ you’re _serious_ ,” It’s barely a breath. “ _Fuck **me**_ , you’re serious, aren’t you? No, you’re fucking with us. You can’t be serious.”

You give him the most earnest expression you can manage and he buries his face in his hands, peeking at you from between his fingers. His hands steeple under his huge eyes and his chest heaves with a deep, steadying breath. He just stares.

Looking up, you see Zen looking down at you in a similar manner.

 

“Zen?” You prompt, concerned at his silence. “I know it’s a little out of the blue. I understand if you want to talk about it later. Or never again. It’s a decision for both of us, and while I’m at it, I’m sorry for not bringing it up earlier, it just didn’t come up and I didn’t think about it until just now—“ You’re babbling but you can’t stop. So suddenly are you struck with the fear that you’ve broken him or worse, wrecked your relationship.

Zen’s chest moves and he breathes in. It takes way too long to breathe out but his eyes haven’t left yours and you’re not sure the emotion in them is negative. He swallows hard and looks away, focusing intently on the counter to his left. His lips part, like he’s about to speak and you are _astonished_ at the color he’s turning.

“Zen?” _Shit_ have you ruined everything? “I’m sorry,” you try, your stomach plummeting.

“No!” he says suddenly, looking back to you, and you jump a little. “N-no, I mean…I….”

“It’s too much, isn’t it? You’re uncomfortable, I’m sorry.”

“That’s not…” He shifts and his gaze flits back away. He is struggling to formulate his thoughts into words, chewing faintly on his lip.

“I wouldn’t…Trying it.” He’s mumbling so badly you can hardly understand but what you do hear plants butterflies in your chest.

 

“…Zen?”

He takes a _huge_ breath and his eyes squeeze closed.

“I wouldn’t mind trying it.”

 

You only realize Seven is still there because you see him lean back in the corner of your eye. He still has his hands clapped over his mouth. You didn’t think his eyebrows could go any higher, but he’s proving you wrong with every passing second.

 

“ _Zen_??” Your voice climbs like three octaves.

“….Just to _try_.” He clarifies softly.

Excitement rises in you and you have to squelch it by bouncing upwards and clasping his face in your hands. “Are you sure?? You don’t have to go with it just because I want to. It doesn’t have to be Seven, either. I’m sorry I didn’t think this through before just now—“

“It’s….no, I’ve….yeah I’ve thought of it.” A small smile crosses his face and he nuzzles into your hand. His soft lips press into your palm and it sends electricity shivering through you. “And Seven is fine. Weirdly? I trust him if you’re here.”

That takes you aback a little. “Really?”

“Yeah, I guess. I think he trusts _you_.”

 

You could scream holy _shit._ Wait, oh yeah, Seven.

You turn to look at him and he is nothing but red all over. Red hair, red face, red jacket—he’s a ripe tomato sitting in Zen’s kitchen. He’s brought his knees up and he’s leaned backwards so that his back is almost on top of the counter behind him. Bright yellow eyes flit from you to Zen and back.

“Seven…?”

 

He honest to god _squeaks_.

 

“Seven, if you’re not comfortable, it’s okay. I promise I won’t push this. We can pretend it didn’t happen.”

You think the noise he makes is supposed to be a scoff, but it throws itself off a reverse cliff upwards and ends up as another squeak.

Slowly, his fingers uncurl from around his face.

“….. _Me?_ ” he finally croaks. “Are you—fuck me _running_ —are you asking me, actually legitimately _fucking_ asking me if I would be a part of a _threesome_?”

“Only if you want to. Seven, seriously, if you’re not comfortable—“

“ _ME_?” His hands slap back over his mouth, his head sinking on his shoulders. His eyebrows are making some interesting choices and you can’t hold back the snort that bubbles up from your nose.

“There’s another ‘Seven’ that you know?”

He slowly starts to unfurl again, his hands finding new positions under his armpits. He looks at you incredulously, breathing out like he’s been holding it.

“ _Fuck_.” He says finally. “Me. Shit. I… _fuck_. Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yeah. Yes. Yes.”

 

You’re not going to jitter with excitement. This is very serious and a very deliberate step that is going to require a gentle hand and oh my _god you’re going to have a threesome._ You lean upwards and pull Zen closer so that you can kiss him, deep and sloppy. When you break away, you throw your arms around his shoulders and kiss his cheek and neck until he giggles, his warm hands finding themselves on your waist. You bite at his skin just under his ear and push away from him gently to turn to Seven.

His knees and shoulders have lowered and now he’s just watching you and Zen, enraptured. He’s clutching the edge of the stool with both hands, in between his legs and leaning forward slightly. His mouth is open and you can already see the apprehension in his eyes being replaced by hazy desire.

You start walking towards him and he’s paying close attention to every one of your movements.

One of your arms snakes around his shoulder and your other hand goes to brush against his cheek as you lean in. His eyelids immediately lower to half-mast, and you’re surprised at how long his eyelashes are? How did you not notice that before? Your lips meet, testing, and for a moment, he allows you to take control. Then his mouth moves against you headily and you whimper when you feel his tongue slip into your mouth.

Seven tastes like candy. Almost sickly sweet. He kisses you like he’s drowning, moving feverishly to slurp against every inch of you he can reach and you’re surprised at the insistent pressure of his lips.

You pull away for air, dragging a thin ribbon of saliva connecting your mouths with you and you wipe it away with a smile. His expression is _hungry_.

 

Actually, from this angle, you can see why he hasn’t moved. The hands clasping the edge of the stool are obscuring what is becoming a small tent in the front of his jeans. Leaning down again, you bite his lip instead of kissing him this time and he confirms your suspicions, his body rolling forward to rub against his braced arms ever so slightly. A groan rises from the depths of his throat and you shiver at how needy the sound is.

“Zen, he’s trying to pop a boner.” Your voice is huskier than you thought it would be.

“Not trying, accident,” Seven corrects under his breath, quickly, like he didn’t mean to defend his erection but is just too used to apologizing.

 

You look to your partner. Zen is braced against the counter awkwardly, watching you kiss Seven the same way the redhead had watched you two. He’s got his bottom lip caught between his teeth. His chest rises before he replies, like he has to gear up for his answer.

“Maybe you should help.” He says, low.

Next to you, Seven sucks in a sharp intake of breath. You hear him shift almost imperceptibly.

Turning back to him, you head for his neck and can’t help but chuckle sweetly at how immediately he submits it for you to lick and kiss and bite at. His skin is soft and clean—he smells vaguely like sweat and hot plastic but in a way that’s oddly nice.

Gently, you move his hands, which are white-knuckled against the seat of the metal stool. One finds new purchase on your shoulder, fingers curling hesitantly into your hair. The other relocates to the side of his leg to continue grasping at the chair beneath him like a lifeline.

“Is this okay?” You murmur into his ear, your hand trailing to his cold zipper. “Are you alright?”

“I will be so much better if you could just _please_ touch me,” he begs. It’s almost a joke but he rolls against your hand when you press against him more firmly to undo the button and pull the zipper down. His boxers have a cute little star on the front and you have to suppress a giggle as you slide your hand against him. He’s burning hot and hard under the fabric and as you rub upwards slowly, leisurely, a guttural whine crawls its way out of his throat.

You bring your hand past the waistband of the soft underwear and slide into them, wrapping your fingers around his cock to pull him out. He jumps faintly at your touch, but _into_ you instead of away. Playfully, your teeth find purchase on the hollow of his throat and you feel him twitch in your palm. He’s less wide than Zen, but just slightly longer. Briefly, you think of what the difference would _feel_ like.

When your hand curls around him more firmly, he breathes in, and when your hand slides down his length, it hisses out of him between his teeth. His arms are shaking.

 

“Y-you should…” Your head angles so that you can see Zen again, cheek pressed against Seven’s jawbone. Arousal slams down your spine, straight to between your legs when you see that he’s already taken his dick out, his jeans shoved down with little ceremony. He’s stroking himself while he follows your movements, and as he speaks his tone is deep and gravelly. “You should put him in your _mouth_.”

Seven’s member jumps and his next exhale carries that precious high-pitched squeak with it.

“You’re so good with your mouth, Jagi. You should show him how good you are.”

You nod once, looking back to the hacker with a toothy grin that he tries and fails to mirror.

“Is that okay?”

“ _Please_.” It’s a whispered prayer and you mercifully answer it. You move your arm from around him to slide down his body, the hand that he’s curled in your hair following and his legs opening slightly for you. He shudders when you breathe against his shaft and he licks his lips in anticipation.

An experimental kiss against the feverish skin of his cock rewards you with a sharp moan—he’s so _vocal_ —and as your lips curve around his head you can see his hips twitch. Your tongue massages him as well as you can, slippery and soft and tasting gently bitter. Your cheeks hollow and you suck like your life depends on it. Above you, he’s making some incredible noises. He’s panting and whimpering and pleading under his breath and you can _swear_ he’s actively praying to God. Timidly, slowly, you take more and more of him into your mouth until you can bob your head against his length.

The fingers in your hair grip at you and release in time with your movements, though you suspect he’s holding back.

 

Behind you, you’re vaguely aware of Zen’s panting and quiet praise.

“You’re so good for him, you love the taste of cock, don’t you, babe? _Fuck_ you’re so good.” He gasps headily, and you shiver at the wet noise of his hand slipping to his base.

 

Suddenly, Seven’s hand stills your head and you can feel him chuckle breathlessly, devilishly, and shift. You look up curiously, coming face-to-face with a phone.

“She’s so good,” he echoes headily, his familiar shit-eating grin curving his lips. “Just look at that view. What if I just…kept it?”

“Don’t you fucking dare.” You have _never_ heard Zen’s voice do that before. Like he’s trying to act angry but is just too fucking turned on to really be. The thought occurs to you that you’ve accidentally stumbled across a kink of his. _Oops_.

“I’ll delete it later.” Seven reassures, the apologetic tone resurfacing in his voice and briefly contradicting his bad boy persona. He strokes your hair and you do your best to smile. The phone makes a definitive _click_ noise and you can feel Seven twitch at the lewd photo onscreen. “Photo perfect,” he murmurs, rolling his hips into your mouth.

“I don’t want—to see that anywhere,” Zen warns weakly, punctuating with a throaty groan.

Seven chuckles again and moves to slide the phone back into his jacket pocket, his hand joining its twin on your head. “I’ll fucking send it to you.” He hisses in reply, pushing gently to encourage you to resume your pace. “A photo of your girlfriend sucking me off.”

“ _Fuck_ you.”

“You like it, don’t you? You don’t mind.” The redhead has taken to babbling at you, apparently gone past the point of being a blushing, anxious mess and instead regaining some of his impish personality. “You love it. A whole photo album of different dicks in your mouth. Be proud of it, wouldn’t you? You love the feel of it. _Fuck_ you’re so good…

H—ah…! W-wait stop!”

He stops you again, trying to push you off and you oblige. You wipe the drool and precum off your lips with a curious look. He takes a moment to recover and you take the opportunity to survey your handiwork. He’s flushed and his chest is heaving, his member wet and painfully hard, twitching at the sensation of air. _Fucking beautiful_.

“I—I don’t want…c-can I?” he stammers, looking from you to Zen, desperately lustful. “I want…my mouth…on…e-either of you. I don’t want to be the only person here getting anything out of this…”

You can _hear_ Zen swallow. Dimly, you are suddenly aware of how wet you are, and the fact that you are sitting on the floor between two extremely horny, attractive men. Seven is presenting the two of you with an _incredible fucking choice_.

 

[[FRONT AND CENTER, SEVEN]]

 

[[ZEN’S TURN, SEVEN]]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have ya'll noticed that I somehow manage to update this about once a month?  
> I dunno, I promise you I don't plan it. Probably the most consistently updating project I have, and what does that tell you about ME? 
> 
> This is the first legitimately branching fork--so rejoice! Neither is an END. Though neither will actually change the path of the "story" yet. Still working out logistics. 
> 
> Therefore, I will put it to popular demand for which branch is next. Does Seven munch some carpet or does he deepthroat Zen's sausage? The power is yours! I mean he'll do both. But which one first is the question. shrug.
> 
>  
> 
> oh yeah, btw, do not and i mean do not use this as a handbook for approaching multiple sexual partners with your partner this is written porn and nothing makes sense  
> approach any and all things concerning your partner with them first and make sure all parties are fully and completely consenting with literally everything before moving forward with literally anything do not be springing threesomes on unwitting romantic partners like 'well i read this fic once' dont fucking do it ill find you and wear your fucking spine as a necklace same thing with taking pictures of sexual partners during sex ill fucking eat your television dont fucking do it


End file.
